


The Vulcan

by jamie55



Series: Star Crossed [2]
Category: Star Trek, Supernatural
Genre: John Winchester's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 09:23:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13521294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamie55/pseuds/jamie55
Summary: Set in the Star Trek Universe, Supernatural characters///Dean was 14 when he finally accepted it.Their dad had dropped them off on a space station while he went to investigate some nearby planet. There’d been rumours of strange activities. Or something like that. He hadn’t explained everything to Dean. Not yet. Didn’t matter yet. His job right now was to take care of Sammy, not to hunt or track.Dad had given him enough rations to last a week, booked a temporary room, told them to stay hidden, and left them.And then the week passed.





	The Vulcan

**Author's Note:**

> Flashback to Dean's childhood. Set in the Star Trek Universe, Supernatural characters.
> 
> You ever have that one experience when you were young, and it just - maybe not at the time, but looking back - it just kinda defined you? You ever have a stranger do something, which they've most likely forgotten about but which you've gone over a hundred times, something that kept you up at night?
> 
> Well this isn't a happy one.

Dean was 14 when he finally accepted it.

Their dad had dropped them off on a space station while he went to investigate some nearby planet. There’d been rumours of strange activities. Or something like that. He hadn’t explained everything to Dean. Not yet. Didn’t matter yet. His job right now was to take care of Sammy, not to hunt or track.

There was a Vulcan station orbiting a nearby world. Not officially part of the Federation, but close enough. It was a big place, easy to hide in. They weren’t exactly supposed to be there, but it was only supposed to be a few days, and Vulcans weren’t usually curious enough to investigate a few missing things. Dad had given him enough rations to last a week, booked a temporary room, told them to stay hidden, and left them.

They spent the week holed up, reading books, watching recordings. Sam filled up the school work books he’d requested and Dean studied the schematics of the station.

And then the week passed.

They moved out of their room, pretended to be joining a parting transport, and found a storage room. It was filled with supplies for a recently terraformed world, some transport ship with settlers would be over in a month to pick it up. Nothing perishable, just some basic tools, farming equipment, and blankets. The blankets were useful.

Sam complained when Dean tore open a container, setting up their camp with blankets and a lamp. Said something about the settlers needing sterilized supplies and how, depending on their species, they might get die from a simple human sneeze. Dean told him not to drool too much.

Food was trickier.

The supplies his dad had given him hadn’t lasted enough. So he started sneaking into the canteen.

It happened one night, while he was grabbing some grub. He had double checked, he had memorized the crew’s schedule - there shouldn’t have been anyone to catch him (Vulcans don’t alternate from their norm! They’re damn Vulcans, why would they change what works). But the door swiped open and they just stood there - the Vulcan.

Dean was frozen in his spot, one hand raised, reaching out to tamper with the food dispenser’s control settings, and the Vulcan just stood there, watching him. It was impossible to tell whether or not she was upset. And then finally -

“Several _human_ dishes have been programmed into the food synthesizer,” she quirked an eyebrow at him and held out her hand. “Here.”

She held out a couple of food cards. It took a few seconds before he dared move. Dean eventually made his way over to her and took the cards. On each was etched a curvy symbol, it looked musical, and a crudely written English word - macaroni pasta with cheese sauce, protein sandwich, etc - was underneath it in marker.

“Thanks..” Dean said quietly.

The Vulcan gave a nod, turned around, and left him. It was great. He got some food and drinks. Sam was thrilled when he saw. He had gotten sick of vulcan food.

And they got to eat their fill.

And Dean didn’t stay up half the night. Staring at the entrance of their crude hideaway. Worried that security or someone would barge in. Demand answers. Thrown them in the brig. Ship them off to some orphanage. Separate him and Sam. There was no reason to be afraid.

Because they knew. They probably knew this whole time.

They knew that two kids were hiding in a supply room. They knew that Dean had stolen food from them. And they hadn’t called… anyone. They hadn’t arrested them. They didn’t seem to care.

So that was nice.

But something about it stung him like a cold needle.

Something about how that woman had so easily turned away.

Dismissed him.

She didn’t care.

They didn’t care.

Something about it - He couldn’t quite figure out why, but he preferred it before. He preferred worrying about it all. Thinking they’d care if they found him. Thinking they’d make a fuss and get angry or sad or something. Thinking they’d care.

 

 

Their dad got back, two days later. Dean didn’t tell him about the Vulcan.

 

 


End file.
